Chapter 16 – Cain
A one hour and forty-five-minute drive later I’m parked outside of a single-family home in a modest neighborhood with houses that match in different colors surrounding a lake.
It’s not the super-wealthy part of Hartford that I’ve been to with some of my entertainment clients who don’t live in the city, but it’s nice, and it’s close to the train stop that takes residents directly into NYC.
The town is idyllic, exactly how Rhiannon had described it. There are autumn themed decorations everywhere, people wave to you from the sidewalks, and I passed what looks like a small, local dive bar on the way in, advertising their annual Halloween party they’re throwing soon.
Rhiannon’s home is painted blue on the outside with a well-maintained lawn, a white picket fence and a wraparound porch. It looks like something straight out of a ninety’s romance movie and nothing like where I thought she’d be living.
I’m guessing she has roommates, or maybe she’s just renting a room here.
It’s hard to believe, considering how many jobs she juggles, that she’d want to live this far away from where she works.
But now, I can’t help kicking myself for not thinking this through better or at least giving her a heads-up that I’d be showing up.
Oh, right—I couldn’t call or text her to let her know since she still hasn’t given me her phone number.
Ah, fuck. What if she lives here with her parents?
The thought sends a ripple of unease through me. I don’t do great with the whole meet the parents’ thing. I’ve hardly spent time with my own. My mom ditched me and my sister when we were young, remarried and moved to Europe with her new husband, and my dad married his career.
Most days, I don’t consider them the people who raised me. I was raised by a nanny and my own determination to not turn out like them. That second part isn’t working out for me.
I look down at the passenger seat where her wallet is and open it. Checking the address again and confirming that I’m at the right place I look back up at the blue trim and dark sky.
What am I really doing here?
I think that I’m here because I like her.
How else can I explain driving two hours to return something that I could have easily left with the hotel front desk?
She’s got me doing things that make no sense, seeking her face in crowds, wanting to run into her.
And at the same time, they’re the only things that do make sense these days.
Is this how it feels to have a crush?
Fuck, I hope she doesn’t slam the door in my face. Too late to back out now.
I open my door cautiously, smelling the fresh air that’s nothing like NYC with the slightest bite of autumn in it. There’s a motorcycle parked in the driveway that I didn’t notice before and that has me pausing because there’s no way in hell that’s Rhiannon’s.
I knock on the front door instead of using the doorbell, figuring it’s a little less imposing for what I’m here to do.
I’m not sure how I arrived at that logic, but everything with Rhiannon has me questioning my every move.
And when the front door swings home, I’m once again caught off guard and woefully unprepared for who answers it.
It’s a guy who looks to be around my age.
Early 30s I’d guess, dark black hair, a five o’clock shadow, and scorching, hazel eyes like Rhiannon’s but a touch darker.
He’s wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, his chest completely bare, revealing a thin scar on his left pec and a faded tattoo on his right.
And did I mention this guy is jacked?
I wish I’d done a few push-ups before showing up, because standing here in my navy-blue Armani suit next to this lumberjack of a man, I feel like a completely incompetent, tool.
“Can I help you?” he demands, his eyes narrowing as he looks me up and down, full disdain. He shifts his weight, peeking over my shoulder to see my car in his driveway then looks back at me, judgement written across his facial expression like an open book.
I consider telling him ‘Sorry, wrong address,’ turning around and making the two-hour drive back to the city with Rhiannon’s wallet. She’ll probably be back at work on Wednesday, I can leave it with the hotel security and get her number from her lawyer, but I’m too far in at this point.
I just hope this isn’t her secret husband.
Rolling my shoulders back, I stand taller, meeting his eye. “Yes. Does Rhiannon Carpenter live here?”
“Who’s asking?” he demands as he folds his arms over his chest and gives me a menacing glare. I’ve seen meaner, but I can’t get a read on who exactly this guy is to Rhiannon. “You know, it’s dinner time, and people who are from Brookhaven know you don’t knock on a stranger’s door during dinner.”
Well clearly, I’m not from Brookhaven because I’ve never heard of that rule.
“I live in-,” I stop myself before saying I live at the hotel she cleans, realizing how snobby that’s going to sound to a guy who’s clearly already made his mind up about me.
He looks like he’d start laughing if I said I live in the penthouse. And it’s not that I’m ashamed of where I live, it’s about convenience, but if this guy is important to Rhiannon, I’d rather not have him hating me out the gate.
“Um, I’m staying at the hotel where she works, and she left her wallet behind.”
His eyes narrow as he holds out his hand. “Let me see it.”
I place the wallet in his palm. He unzips it and checks her driver’s license before zipping it shut and tucking it in his back pocket.
“Yeah, this is Rhiannon’s.” He sighs, shaking his head. “She’s always losing this damn thing. I swear, I need to glue it to her. Thanks for bringing it here.”
I nod as he steps inside like he’s going to shut the door but then pauses and glances at the car behind me.
I know it’s out of place here, a foreign that I splurged on when I made partner at my dad’s law firm at thirty-three-years-old, but I rarely get to drive while living in the city so when I do, I like to go fast and in something comfortable.
My gaze travels where he’s staring and the way our methods of transportation couldn’t be any more opposite.
Of course, this guy drives a Harley. Looks like he might eat nails for breakfast, too.
“So, you live in New York City... and drove all the way out to Brookhaven just to return her wallet?” His brows raise. “Why didn’t you just leave it with the hotel security desk?”
Because Rhiannon, put a fucking curse on me with her pussy that I can’t seem to lift. It’s that, or her little joke about what she did with my lucky boxers on her bedroom wall wasn’t a lie.
“I happened to be traveling to Hartford for work tonight.” I’m lying, but I’m a good liar. He won’t be able to tell.
His eyes narrow again as he looks at me then turns his head to shout behind the door. “Rhiannon! You got a visitor!”
If this guy is her husband, I’m officially screwed because I may be a good liar, but there’s no way I’m going to be able to fake the way that I feel when she’s in my presence.
I’m a fucking lawyer. I shouldn’t be this nervous.
I should be able to keep my poker face intact and talk my way through this effortlessly, but instead, I feel like this guy is seeing right through me.
Right through my hard exterior into my caramel covered center that’s mushy and gushy because of his wife.
I straighten up, determined not to let Rhiannon Carpenter cost me another damn ‘case’ that I can’t afford to lose.
“Who is it?” I hear Rhiannon’s voice draw closer as she walks toward the door. When she peeks around the door her hazel eyes widen when they land on me. “Oh, shit.”
Oh, shit is right. Because when she steps into view, my brain short-circuits. My eyes drag over her like I haven’t seen her in weeks, not hours. I swear my heart starts doing some weird thumping thing that I’m too young for, and my balls ache.
And then it hits me. She’s wearing nothing but a white T-shirt and my fucking boxers.
My lucky boxers are hanging low on her hips, the waistband rolled once, her curvy hips and bare legs catching the light like she’s taunting me on purpose.
The big guy grins, glancing between us like he’s watching his favorite show. Then he throws his head back and laughs, deep and booming.
“Yeah, I had a feeling that’d be your reaction when you saw this guy.”
Before I can even piece together what the hell that means, his hand shoots out fast, and instinct takes over. My body moves before my brain does, fists up, ready to block whatever’s coming. For a split second, I’m positive he’s about to deck me.
Then I realize, he’s just going in for a handshake.
By the time that clicks, it’s already too late. He’s doubled over, laughing so hard his big shoulders shake and mean eyes are now crinkled with humor.
Rhiannon just stands there, that teasing smile tugging at her lips, watching the whole thing unfold like I’m her entertainment for the night.
“Really?” she says, tilting her head. “Cain, did you seriously think my brother was going to hit you?”
Ah, so it’s not her scorned lover then.
I glance between the two of them, finally noticing the similarities in the shape of their eyes and facial structure, and now that they’re both laughing at my expense like they heard the funniest joke, I see even more similarities in their personalities.
“Hilarious,” I deadpan.
Rhiannon and her brother wipe at their tears, finally pulling it together.
“Sorry, man. I just wish you’d seen your face,” he extends his hand again. This time, I shake it firmly with a little extra grip for no reason other than to show him I’m tough too. “I’m Gabriel Carpenter. Rhiannon’s older brother.”
“Older by only ten months,” Rhiannon chimes in with a smile.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say, though I’m not yet sure if it is.
Not even two seconds later I hear another voice come from behind me in the driveway.
“Please tell me he isn’t here to sell us those solar panels again.”
Gabriel chuckles as he turns to leave the doorway. “Good luck.” And then he heads inside the home.
I turn around to find a younger looking woman who has dark auburn hair, the reddish tint almost making it look like it’s on fire in the late, autumn light, and piercing green eyes. She looks like a blend of Gabriel and Rhiannon with less of a teasing gaze.
She glances at me critically before Rhiannon laughs again.
“No, Eden, this is just an… acquaintance of mine.”
Eden’s eyes narrow as she takes me in. “And how acquainted are you two?”
Rhiannon does the shushing motion and juts her thumb inside. “Dinner’s on the table. Go eat. I’ll be right there.”
Eden rolls her eyes and heads inside as Rhiannon steps out of the doorway, closing it gently behind her.
“That would be my younger sister, Eden. She’s only eighteen. We had a sales guy come by earlier this week and he wouldn’t stop talking to me about solar panels. She claims he was also trying to sell me on the idea of a date.”
Did I mention that this anonymous solar panel sales guy is now on my shit list? Going to find out who he is and sue him just for fun.
“Did you say yes?” I ask because I can’t help myself.
She raises a brow, her lips curving up into a smile. “Why? Would you be jealous if I did?”
“No,” I bark out way too fast. She knows I’m lying and I don’t care. Let me pretend I have any dignity left.
She laughs. “No. Remember, I don’t have time to date.”
I rub at my jaw. “Well, I’m offended. Do I really look like I’m dressed to sell solar panels?”
She steps back, her gaze rolling over my suit and dress shoes before connecting with my eyes. She’s smiling, and despite knowing she calls me a Suit openly, I also know she likes how I look.
“Nope. You look like you’re an entertainment lawyer who bills clients one thousand dollars an hour to lose cases and crush their souls.”
I roll my eyes. “Have I told you how much I enjoy talking to you?”
She puts her hands under her chin and bats her dark eyelashes. “No. Tell me more about why it wasn’t enough to spend a full afternoon together in a hospital, so you’ve followed me to my childhood home in Brookhaven.”
“I came because you left your wallet in my apartment. I just gave it to your brother.”
Her voice softens, the teasing gone now. “Ah, I was wondering where I dropped that. Thank you. But you didn’t have to drive all the way out here. You should probably be taking the pain meds and resting your hand at home.”
I shrug, acting like it’s no big deal that I just spent my Friday night driving two hours to drop off a wallet and turn right back around after getting stitches.
“I figured you might need it for this weekend.”
She narrows her eyes as if she’s trying to read the meaning behind that, then waves her hand, gesturing inside the home.
“Come on in and have dinner with us since you’re here. You must be starving.”
“I’m good.”
“Don’t be stubborn.”
She’s right. I am hungry. I didn’t get a chance to eat lunch because she was in my penthouse, distracting me, and then I spent the rest of my afternoon in the hospital, getting stitches, trying to figure out a way to get her out of my head and failing miserably.
“I made enough for leftovers. Please, join us,” she says smiling as she opens the door wider. “My siblings are crazy and will totally call you out on your shit just like I do, but it might be good for you to get knocked down a peg or two. Struggle with us blue-collar, Brookhaven folks for an hour.”
Her grin widens, and I figure, what the hell is a couple of hours spent with the Carpenter’s before I drive back home?
It’s not like it could possibly make me like her more. If anything, maybe it’ll make me like her less.